


I only bow down to worship (but I come to a stop when I see you)

by Hanaasbananas



Series: Hanaa's Bollywood Playlist [9]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (only a little angst though), Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Identity Reveal, No Dialogue, No Plot/Plotless, inspired by bollywood (again), no beta we die like men, no but seriously I forgot how nice this song is it's so sweet, you should deff check it out! the link even has subs this time!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanaasbananas/pseuds/Hanaasbananas
Summary: I learnt the matters of the heart from you,I learnt about these ways from you.I lived, by dying for you.It scares Adrien sometimes. How quickly he fell for her. How effortlessly.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Hanaa's Bollywood Playlist [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818835
Comments: 9
Kudos: 116





	I only bow down to worship (but I come to a stop when I see you)

**Author's Note:**

> Back with another oneshot! ~~(when I should be writing the next chapter of Forgotten Promises oops)~~
> 
> Anyway, I read [maketea's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea)  
> fic Storm the other day and I just LOVE her fics where adrinette are dating and Marinette revealed her identity to him or vice versa but they don't know who the other is idk if i'm making sense but if you haven't read Maketea's fic what are you waiting for go go go! read it now it's so good!  
> But yeah, I read that, and then this song came on shuffle and my brain went !!!!!!!! So I wrote this. Enjoy!
> 
> Inspired by [Khuda Jaane](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmMiyZaSELo)  
> 

He stirs, blinking the sleep from his eyes, letting them adjust to the darkened room. Searching for the sound that woke him, he finds Plagg hovering in front of his face, green eyes luminous in the darkness as a low whine escapes his lips, demanding what he always does- cheese. 

Reclining against the head of the bed, he reaches for the small tin of camembert he keeps in his jeans pocket for just such occasions and as he does, he feels the stiffness in his back, in his neck. A twinge of pain in his right shoulder, and he feels the weight of her in his arms, her head nestled underneath his chin, her breaths puffing out warm and even against his chest.

Adrien freezes. 

Moving carefully now so as not to jostle her, he retrieves the cheese and throws it to his kwami, who catches it in midair and zips off to enjoy his prize in peace. 

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep-even if it was only for a few minutes, as the movie playing on Marinette’s laptop indicates. But just as she'd been tired out after the akuma today, so was he. And Adrien has never slept as peacefully as he does when Marinette is in his arms, when they lie together.

Slowly, he shifts, drawing the blanket up from their waists and tucking it in around Marinette’s shoulders, protecting her from the chill. He doesn’t want her sleep to be disturbed, for her to wake before she’s rested well enough. The battle was a long one, and she deserves the rest. 

Her hair is coming loose from it’s pigtails, and gently he slides the hair ties off, combing through her hair with his fingers and smiling when she hums contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

When she wakes, she’ll apologise for ‘ruining’ their date, for falling asleep on one of the few days they get to spend more than five minutes together uninterrupted, and he will laugh, and kiss away her protests, reminding her that he hardly cares what they do, as long as they do it together. 

* * *

Adrien is standing so close behind her that she bumps into him as she’s stepping off the ladder, gazing up at where she attached the final set of paper chains and wondering if they’ll hold until the party later.

He hardly lets her react; grabbing her by the hand and spinning her around to face him and it’s only then that she notices the song playing over the speakers. 

_Their_ song. 

He sees the realisation in her eyes and grins, stepping back and taking her with him; leading her in a short dance around the courtyard as their classmates move to the sides and watch. 

It still catches Marinette by surprise, how affectionate Adrien is. 

When he meets her by the school steps every morning, or grabs her hand and twines their fingers together; and now, when he dips her back over his arm as the song comes to a close, holding their position a moment longer for dramatic effect and grinning at how easily he can make her blush. 

Blood rushes in her ears as they stand back up and Marinette’s legs wobble underneath her. She ignores the hoots and hollers of their classmates, ignores Lila glowering in the corner and Chloé rolling her eyes and instead savours the feel of Adriens hand on the small of her back keeping her steady, and grounded.

Adrien takes pride in making her blush, she knows. But as her face burns and she buries her face in the crook of her neck to hide the smile pulling at her lips, Marinette finds that she doesn’t much care. 

* * *

A split second is all it takes. One thirty second video of Marinette looking up at him as they wait for their friends, the two of them talking quietly to each other, her face going blank when he drops a kiss to her forehead—one of his favourite things to do, just because of the way she scrunches up her nose in response. 

Now, Adrien stands defiantly, fists clenched by his sides, in front of father and, for the first time in his life, refuses to do as he’s told. 

Father had made him wait for twenty minutes, shifting uncomfortably as he considered all the different ways this conversation would go. In all of his imaginings though, he’d never thought father would go this far.

He’d imagined chaperoned dates, rules about social media, maybe even a formal meeting over dinner, but not this. Never _this._

It scares Adrien sometimes. How quickly he fell for her. How effortlessly. How he sees her whenever he closes her eyes. They’ve learned to be creative with dates, with the way his schedule is packed full with hardly any free time, but he cherishes every moment, every _second_ with Marinette, with his Lady, and he _will not_ give it up. 

Marinette would let him stay with her if he ran away, he’s pretty sure.

For a second, father almost lets his composure slip, but then his expression softens slightly—his lips tilting a little at the corners in what might be considered a smile and he inclines his head in a nod. 

Gabriel gives his blessing. Adrien acts like he cares. 

* * *

She’s pacing back and forth in her room, working herself into a frenzy when Adrien lets himself in. He’s wearing a sharp black suit, the only colour in the outfit the green tie that matches his eyes. 

The smile drops from his face as soon as he sees her expression and he hurries to her side, stumbling a little, his arms coming to rest on her waist when she throws herself at him. 

She can’t do this. Tonight is supposed to be their first official outing as a couple, sanctioned by Adrien’s father, they are to attend a party at Le Grand Paris, where people will take photos of them, where reporters will ask questions and record her every move to be scrutinized on the news and social media in the morning. 

She’s read the articles that had been written after that short video of them was posted, she can’t imagine what will be said about her after tonight. Marinette hadn’t thought she’d have to deal with this so soon.

Maybe if she were Ladybug, she could do it, but Ladybug isn’t dating Adrien, Marinette is. Ladybug is the one with the confidence. Marinette is just the shy baker's daughter who dared to catch the eye of Paris’ ‘golden boy’. 

Coming back to herself, she notices Adrien prising her phone from her clenched fingers, tutting when he sees the gossip site she has open. His brow furrows and his lips thin into a hard line the more he reads until he throws the phone onto her chaise, shrugging off his suit jacket and throwing it on top.

Turning back to her, he rolls up his shirt sleeves, loosening his tie and undoing the first buttons on his shirt as she watches on, confused. 

She’s still confused, standing in the same place in the middle of her room when he goes downstairs and comes back with a tray full of pastries. 

And then his hand is warm in hers, his fingers curling over her palm and squeezing as he asks if she’s going to sit down, and declares that he’s been practising and _this_ time, he’s going to beat her at Ultimate Mecha Strike. Marinette blinks in surprise, but Adrien is already setting up the game, looking back at her expectantly and she sees no resentment, no disappointment in his eyes, only love. 

They play the game in their formal wear, getting crumbs all over themselves until Adrien throws his controller in disgust, munching disgruntledly on a macaron as she crows over her victory. 

She doesn’t notice him take the picture, but she sees it later, when he posts it on his instagram. In it, she’s doubled over in laughter, her hair falling across her face.The photo is a little unfocused, blurred from her movement, but her smile is wide and unabashed, and Adrien follows it up with a photo of himself, his cheeks a little flushed, his green eyes soft, a fond smile playing about his lips as he watches her. 

In the caption he writes: _Sorry we couldn’t make it, but I’ve decided I’m gonna keep her to myself a little longer._

* * *

Adrien inhales shakily, burying his face in Marinette’s hair, letting the mango and papaya scent of her shampoo wash over him,praying that she doesn’t hear the way his breath hitches in his throat as she clings to him and cries,her tears soaking his shirt. 

He doesn’t care. It is enough to feel her in his arms—solid and warm—to remind himself that he is _alive_ , that the pain lingering in his chest is just a memory, that he is unharmed. And so is Marinette.

Adrien is familiar with death. In his line of work, he _has_ to be. But this...this was different.

This was not the same as blinking out of existence only to return once Ladybug cast the miraculous cure with no memory of what happened, feeling only a slight sense of displacement afterwards.

No. This had been pain, blazing hot in his abdomen, in his chest, his eyes becoming heavy and slipping shut as he told himself it wouldn’t hurt to rest them for _one second, just one second_.

It had been lying there, helpless to do anything as he felt the life draining out of him with every rattling exhale. 

He’d do it again of course. Without a doubt. He’d take any hit for her, but as he’d lain there, unable to do anything but watch as Ladybug-as _Marinette-_ fought for him, fought to put things right, it made him think. 

What if one day, he didn’t survive? If he was dealt a fatal blow? Is that how he’d want her to find out? 

After the battle, Ladybug had practically launched herself at him, laughing wetly as he sat up and flexed for her, showing off the way he’d been cured. She’d ignored how shaky he was, how his skin was still clammy and pale, and she’d put on a brave face for Chat, but it had all crumbled when she met up with him as Adrien. 

He’d been waiting for her, and she’d practically collapsed into his arms, dissolving into tears as he gathered her in his embrace and led her away from prying eyes. 

What would happen, if something happened to Chat, and Adrien wasn’t there to comfort her? No. He has to do this. 

Tightening his arms around her for a second, Adrien pulls back, bringing his hands up to cup Marinette’s tear stained face. Gently, he wipes her cheeks with his thumbs, smiling a little when she sniffles and reaches up to grab hold of his wrists, keeping them in place. 

As he speaks, and begins to see the comprehension dawning in her eyes, the words continue to tumble out of his mouth in a rush, and all he can hope for it that she won’t rip her hands from his. Hopes she will forgive him for keeping his identity from her for so long. Hopes that if she is angry, she will at least let him protect her in battle still. 

Eventually, he falls silent, bowing his head, hardly daring to breathe while awaiting her judgement. 

It comes in the form of a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Funny how I liked Maketea's concept but then it's barely relevant in this. Oh well.
> 
> Follow me on:  
> [tumblr](https://hanaasbananas.tumblr.com/)  
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/hanaasbananaswrites/)


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